


i begin to fade into our secret place

by quinnking



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, s07e17 all things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 22:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4036294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnking/pseuds/quinnking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mulder," she whispers as she bends to rid him of his shirt; to kiss his neck, chest, stomach. She bites a few times, leaving barely there marks and all he wants is contact.</p>
<p>She kisses him again, and it's funny because he doesn't like to settle down or stay in one place or have the same routine, but with her lips pressed against his, he feels like he's home and he wants to do this every single day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i begin to fade into our secret place

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first msr/txf oneshot, so naturally i'm sticking with canon events and writing my version of the first time our two favourite fbi agents do the do.
> 
> listen to all around me by flyleaf, for it's the song the title is based off of and i listened to it whilst writing it.

_this fire rising through my being, burning, i'm not used to seeing you_

**I**  
  
Mulder has never been a religious man, but when he looks down upon a sleeping Scully (his achingly beautiful and frustrating partner, the love of his life), he swears he sees an angel.

He can't bear to move her, even if it would be more comfortable for her if he takes the couch and she sleeps in the bed. So he covers her small body with a blanket and peers down at her for a few more moments before he retreats.

"Mulder?"

He almost jumps as he hears the voice from behind him and he turns to see Scully lifting herself from the couch, walking over to him. She's practically pressed against him now, her body warm and her scent overwhelms him. 

"Scully," he murmurs, looking down at her.

They stand there, say nothing, all to be heard is the sound of their breathing. Mulder doesn't know what to do with himself. That is until he feels himself being pulled downward by his collar, and then her lips are on his.

This isn't their first kiss, he has to remind himself, his body. His heart is beating too wildly and his pulse is thumping too loudly in his ears, his whole body warming and oh, what great sin has he committed to deserve this?

"Bed," he says, because it must be uncomfortable for her to be on her tiptoes and his neck is beginning to ache. But he wouldn't be totally opposed to worshiping her on the floor right here, either.

Scully starts to lead them toward the bedroom, her hands under his shirt and her manicured nails leaving scratches along his chest. It shouldn't be as arousing as it is, but damn it if he doesn't find it so.

His knees hit the back of the bed and then he's laying there, with her straddling his waist.

And oh, God, she's radiant. There's a dim light coming from the window and it just barely illuminates her silhouette. But she's taking her shirt off now, and the look she gives him has to be the sexiest thing he has seen in his life.

"Mulder," she whispers as she bends to rid him of his shirt; to kiss his neck, chest, stomach. She bites a few times, leaving barely there marks and all he wants is contact.

She kisses him again, and it's funny because he doesn't like to settle down or stay in one place or have the same routine, but with her lips pressed against his, he feels like he's home and he wants to do this every single day.

She undoes her bra and he doesn't have to be told to bring his hands up to gently massage her breasts. He pulls her forward a little bit and brings himself up so he's able to take a nipple into his mouth, rolls it between his tongue and teeth. Repeats with the other one. She throws her head back and her teeth sink in to her lower lip.

Correction, _that_ is the sexiest thing he has ever seen.

They kiss again, hungrier, all tongue and teeth and soft moans into each others mouths. And Mulder feels Scully's hand as she undoes his belt, pops open his button and unzips him. Her hands are in his boxers now, gripping him in her warm hands, and he bucks his hips up.

He feels the corner of her mouth quirk up, a telltale sign that she's smirking. Damn her, he sniffs. Two can play at this game. His hand moves down her bare stomach and together they maneuver her out of her skirt until she kicks it off. She's just in her panties now, black lace. He feels his cock pulse and he hears a chuckle.

Oh, yeah. He better get back to the task at hand. Or rather, fingers.

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband and finds her wet and slick (she's soaked for him, for him) and he slides his middle finger through her folds and to her clit. He presses down softly once, twice, trying to gauge a reaction. And then he presses down firmly enough that she shakes in his arms and lets out a small cry.

She pushes his hand away from her body. "Need you," she explains, and they both work until they're bare and she's sliding over him.

He can barely choke back the moan that bubbles up when she sinks onto him, burying him inside her to the hilt.

Her hands are on his chest, her nails making crescent moons as she starts to move her hips. The rhythm isn't slow, he knew it wouldn't be, because they want this so bad. They've waited too long and there will be more nights to go slow.

She rises and falls against him, and all he can do is watch her. One hand on her thigh, one hand on her hips. She starts to grind against him faster now, her hips losing whatever pace and rhythm they previously had.

He swears she's going to drive him insane; she's impossibly tight and wet, her nails are leaving arousing marks on his chest and she's moaning. God, she's moaning his name and she's moving faster and all he can hear is _Mulder, Mulder, Mulder._

He wants her to come, he wants to see her crumble. His thumb moves to her clit, swipes and presses in circles, until she shatters.

His name again, her head thrown back, her back arching like a bow. She's so beautiful, so impossible (but she's there, he reminds himself, there and on top of him and she just came for him).

He lets himself go, too, his orgasm hitting him hard enough that he sees stars behind his eyes.

After a few moments she rolls off of him and onto her side beside him, her sweat slicked body sticking to his in the most wonderful of ways.

He looks down her body, taking the time to take her in completely, and he thinks that if there was ever a day he had to choose his final meal, he'd want it to be her.

She kisses the side of his mouth and nuzzles against him. The last thing he sees before he falls asleep is hair as red as fire.


End file.
